Elfhome

by Wen Spencer

  “Yes, it was Kajo. The drunk gave them information that could have only come from Tinker’s datapad that the oni had hacked. No one else in Pittsburgh could have developed the new hoverbike. The snake in the grass poisoned these few and tried to destroy both our people. For that treason, I executed Team Providence.”

  Put all together, yes, it was damning. Tommy nodded his understanding of why Jin killed the tengu involved. Bigotry, greed and stupidity had combined to nearly destroy them all.

  Jin gazed at Tommy levelly. “To continue your ban of my people from your racetracks and other businesses is to allow Kajo keep the handhold he’s created. He will use it to drive one wedge after another between our people. Do not give the oni control over you. Take back your ban.”

  Tommy made a show of lighting a cigarette to give himself time to think. There was no doubt in his mind that Kajo had been behind Team Providence’s scam. The greater blood had always been three steps ahead of Lord Tomtom. Tommy had been torn between joy and embarrassment as Kajo had made his father run in circles. It was all painfully clear that this time, Tommy was the one jerked around. Team Providence were typical tools of the greater blood. People nudged hard in direction they would already go, given information that they couldn’t otherwise obtain, twisted and lied to and then released to wreak havoc. And all the roadblocks that Tommy had faced had been Kajo maneuvering. The exploited loophole in the rules. The entire bullshit of Tommy not being able to stop a race at his own racetrack. The Wyverns in the stands to watch the baby sekasha race. Tommy flicked the barely smoked cigarette onto the floor and ground it angry out.

  What a sack of shit.

  And Jin—the frigging spiritual leader—quietly explaining why he had to blow the brains out of his own people. You don’t kill your people. You protect your people against them—them being everyone else in the world. But then, Tommy never had any of his family spit in his face and try to knife him in the back. A few thousand half-oni might have been born to human mothers since the first Startup, but only a couple hundred had survived to see freedom. Like Tommy had told Jin, half his people were under ten years old.

  Was it only a matter of time before Tommy needed to kill cousins to keep the others in line?

  Jin was waiting patiently for an answer. Lift the ban? Tommy was still angry with Team Providence but they were all dead. Keeping the ban in place would be like pissing on a dead man. Easy but pointless.

  All this came looping back to Windwolf wanting Tommy to be Beholden. Jin saw them as allies because he thought their fates were linked. They’d be bookends to Tinker and Windwolf. A glorious future of lasting peace, choke-chained by the elves.

  “You’re wrong,” Tommy growled. “There’s no happily ever after to chase after. All you did was swap masters; oni for elves. Beholden is just another word for slave.”

  Jin gave a bird-like tilt of his head to peer quizzedly at Tommy. “Is that how you see it? I don’t. I see myself as a knight at the Round Table.”

  “What?”

  “Once upon a time, far, far away.” Jin jumped up lightly to the railing in front of the cage. He startled the owl inside, making it rustle it wings nervous. “On Earth, to be exact, in land called England, there was a king by the name of Arthur Pendragon.”

  “I know all about that sword in the stone bullshit,” Tommy roared. “I was raised in Pittsburgh, not on Onihida.”

  Jin crouched while still balanced on the railing. “The basis for the legend was that Arthur had many powerful warriors who were tearing the land apart with their petty bickering. He brought them together and made them allies by creating a code of conduct. His code contains virtues such as protection of the weak, courage, mercy, and generosity. It was a code that would not allow them to engage in pointless fighting with each other.”

  Tommy scoffed. “What a fairytale.”

  “No, no, see it’s actually pure genius. You can’t change other people, you can only change yourself. King Arthur set this high bar, this perfection of justice and good, and said ‘this is what a Knight of the Round Table is’ and then left it up to his warriors to prove to themselves that they could measure up to it.”

  “You really believe King Arthur existed? Merlin the magician, living backwards in time?”

  “Odder things have happened—to me.” Jin stood and started to walk down the railing as he talked. “But consider a second example: the bushido code that the samurai followed. They believed that the perfect warrior strove to achieve seven virtues.” He ticked them off with his fingers. “Courage. Respect. Honesty. Honor. Loyalty. Benevolence. Righteousness.”

  “Get to the damn point.”

  “The elves are not asking you to be a slave. They’re offering you a place at the Round Table. All that they ask is that you strive to be a good man. To be truthful. To be just. To be honorable and loyal.”

  “Loyal lapdog. I’ve heard how Tinker calls and you come running like a chickens, ready to die in her crazy plan of the day.”

  “She is good and kind.” There was steel behind the words. Jin didn’t like people knocking his domi. He stepped down off the railing. “And you know she is. You’ve spent too much time around her not to know.”

  “She has you doing things like highjacking dreadnaughts in midair and clearing oni nests.”

  “We want to live in peace, and for that, we must create peace to live in.”

  Jin locked gaze with him. “Let there be peace between our people. Those that wronged you have been punished. Life your ban.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  21: Shadow Boxing

  Oni moved through Tinker’s nightmares. They were all through the enclave, slipping unseen into position for attack. No one seemed to notice them, even when the oni were standing right in front of the elves. She whimpered as the oni crept into the room where Pony slept. Her First lay sprawled face down in his bed, confident in the safety of the enclave, his naked back to the invaders. An oni warrior eased a long dagger from his belt and moved silently toward Pony’s bed.

  She tried to call out, tried to shout, but the words caught in her throat.

  The oni struck downwards and Pony jerked once and then went still. Blood sprayed from the wound, a fountain pulsing to Pony’s still beating heart.

  There was a noise behind her and Tinker turned, caught sight of an oni appearing out of no where as if suddenly teleported there, reaching for her. She started to run, bringing up her left hand, fingers crooked in position to summon her shields. The oni caught her by her long braid and jerked her back, slamming her onto the ground.

  Stormsong burst into the room, her shields wrapped around her like black mist.

  A third oni warrior with a machine gun opened fire on Stormsong as the female sekasha charged toward where Tinker was still pinned on the ground. Stormsong’s shields flared at the striking bullets, again and again, and then vanished. A bullet caught her in the face, dropping her instantly.

  “No!” Tinker sat up with a scream.

  “Domi, hush, it’s all right, I’m here.” Pony crooned into her ear, his arms around her. The nightmare vanished and she was in her own bed, warm sheets cocooning her and Pony. There was no wound on his bare back—no blood pouring from his neck—yet.

  “Oh god! Oh god! There’s oni in the enclave!” She tried to bring up her right hand and cried out as she realized that her arm was bound tight and useless. “No! I need my shields. They’ll kill everyone!”

  “Arm yourself!” Pony shouted and activated his shields without taking his arms from around her.

  Stormsong burst into the room, shields up brilliant blue and ejae out. “What is it?”

  Tinker cried out in relief and held out her left hand to Stormsong, desperate to feel the life in her. Stormsong crossed the room to Tinker’s bed but her eyes flicked about the room, looking for something to kill.

  “Domi dreamed that oni attacked,” Pony said.

  Stormsong’s shield blocked Tinker’s hand from reaching her. T
inker pressed her hand flat against the solid air, frustrated even as she was reassured by its presence. “We couldn’t see them. It was like Lord Tomtom; they were there but we couldn’t see them.”

  Pony swept Tinker up off her bed. “We’ll move to the practice hall, it’s more secure.”

  Stormsong nodded and took lead out of the bedroom. They collected the rest of her Hand as they moved through the enclave. Except for Pony, they were all fully dressed, apparently on alert as long as Windwolf was out of the enclave and Tinker was in a drugged sleep.

  “Put me down.” Tinker said. “Let me call my shields. They have machines guns. It just eats right through your shield. They’ll kill you.”

  “Your arm is broken.” Pony said in a tone he rarely used with her. He’d shifted into the one in charge. There would be no arguing with him. “You’ll cripple yourself for life if you unbind it while the healing spell is active.”

  “So I’ll cancel the damn spell.” She slapped uselessly at his bare shoulder.

  He wouldn’t put her down. “The pain will keep you from maintaining a shield for any useful length of time.”

  The laedin caste guards of the enclave were added to the sekasha, herding Poppymeadow’s staff and members of Wolf’s personal household out of the way for Tinker’s Hard to move through first, and then swept into their wake.

  She had never noticed that the practice hall had reinforced doors and narrow arrow slits for windows. The laedin slammed the doors shut, threw heavy bars into place, and activated defense shields built into the framework.

  The elves relaxed slightly.

  If the dream hadn’t been so vivid and horrific, if her dreams didn’t have a habit of coming true, then Tinker would be embarrassed at disrupting the entire enclave based on a nightmare. She couldn’t get the images out of her mind. Pony’s blood pumping out. Stormsong’s face shattering under the force of the bullet.

  She gasped slightly as she realized something odd that been playing through her dream.

  “What is it domi?”

  “Stormsong’s shields! Your spell tattoos!” Tinker pressed her hand to Pony’s blue inked tattoos that ran down his arms. “In my dream—they were black.”

  “Black?” Stormsong murmured and looked to the right intently as if she suddenly developed x-ray vision and was scanning beyond the wall.

  “Yes. And the oni—they caught me by my hair.” Tinker caught a fistful of her short scruffy hair. “I had a long braid.”

  “Jewel Tear.” Stormsong said. “The oni aren’t in this enclave, they’re at Ginger Wine’s. They’re going to attack the Stone Clan. We’ll have to warn them.”

  The sekasha glanced at each other and came to a silent agreement. They nodded to each other.

  Tinker guessed that they had decided that they would go together. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Domi…” Pony started.

  She cut him short by cocking the undamaged fingers of her left hand and activating a protection shield. She wasn’t sure it would work, she’d never tried it before, and was relieved when the shields wrapped solidly around her. Even better, there was no pain. She should have tried this for the fight in the whelping pens.

  “What the hell?” Stormsong cried in English.

  “Domi?” Pony frowned at the black misting shield she’d summoned. “How—how are you doing that?”

  “I can tap the Stone Clan spell stones,” she admitted.

  “How—how?” Pony sputtered.

  “And how did you learn their esva?” Stormsong asked.

  She canceled the spell and answered the simpler question. “Blue Sky recorded Jewel Tear activating her shields. I ran it through a video editor to analyze the spell she used.”

  They looked so scandalized that she didn’t add in that she had done the same with True Flame calling a flame strike. Nor that she’d practice the parts of the flame strike; keeping the activation command and hand gestures separate so there was no chance she actually cast it.

  “It’s a domana shield. It’s a thousand times stronger than your personal shields. That’s what I’m here for: to protect you as you protect me. I am not letting you go over to that enclave alone.”

  “Stone Clan defense spells are actually stronger than Wind Clan.” Stormsong pointed out, always the realist.

  “She’s wounded.” Pony said.

  “It feels—best—to take her.” Stormsong meant that her own pre-cog ability suggested that disaster lay in leaving Tinker behind.

  “I am going.” Tinker growled.

  Pony didn’t look happy but he nodded compliance.

  #

  They were too late.

  They came through the front gate, let in by Ginger Wine’s door guard, just as the first round of machine gun fire announced the death of Jewel Tear’s Second.

  “Get everyone out.” Tinker ordered and cast the Stone esva shield. The rest of Jewel Tear’s Hand would die as surely as her Second trying to rescue Jewel Tear. The shield encompassed an annoyingly small area, enveloping half what she would cover with her Wind esva shield. “Stay close.”

  They went through the sprawling compound, plowing through Ginger Wine’s staff as they fled away from the gunfire. They got as far as the inner courtyard when Pony paused her.

  “Domi, they’ve barricaded themselves into the training hall.” He pointed to the low building across the yard full of apple trees. The doors were closed and rifle barrels bristled from the arrow slits.

  “Watch out!” Tinker cried as one of the rifle’s jerked back and made room for a rocket launcher. A missile blasted toward them and slammed into the domana shield. The force of the explosion plowed back through the trees, snapping off limbs and making it rain down half-ripe fruit.

  “That missile launcher is really starting to piss me off.” Tinker growled.

  “We need to cover Ginger Wine’s people.” Pony studied the building with narrowed eyes. “It would be unwise to force our way into the training hall—even if we could breach the doors. There are at least a dozen warriors inside; we would be overwhelmed if there’s more than three for each of us to fight.”

  “Do you think they have Jewel Tear in there?” Tinker winced as a second missile slammed into her domana shield.

  Stormsong shook her head. “No, this force is just to slow us down as they take Jewel out another way.”

  “We’ll need Wolf to get them out of the training hall,” Pony said.

  “Fuck that.” Tinker glanced around. There was a stone wall beside them. “Take cover.”

  She dropped the shield and aimed a flame strike at the training hall.

  It had a lot more power behind it than she expected. The night erupted into brilliance as flame blasted up through the roof on the training hall. Burning timbers and ceramic roofing tiles came raining back down.

  Tinker ducked back beside her Hand. They were staring at her in stunned shock. “Shit! I thought training hall was shielded!”

  “The oni wouldn’t know the activation command.” Pony broke the silence. “Only Ginger Wine and a handful of her people would know.”

  Stormsong found her voice. “Are you nuts? Do you have any idea how dangerous that spell is?”

  “It’s a calculated risk.” Tinker recast the shield. “We need to find Jewel and what’s left of her Hand.”

  22: Helpless

  Gunfire woke Oilcan. He tumbled out of bed, once again disoriented by the pattern of light and shadows in his bedroom. Where was he? Oh, yes, Sacred Heart. Was it gunfire he actually heard?

  The thunder of a machine gun answered his question. It sounded far too close for comfort. Thorne Scratch was dressing hurriedly in the darkness.

  “Where’s that coming from?” He didn’t bother fumbling for his discarded clothes. He pulled fresh out of his dresser.

  “Ginger Wine’s.” Thorne Scratch growled.

  There was a sudden draconic roar and the flare of crimson tainted brilliance. Thorne had her vest armor on; the light gleam
ed off the slick black of the scales.

  “Thank gods,” Thorne Scratch breathed out.

  “What was that?”

  “Fire Clan esva.” She tugged on her pants. “I need to go. Take the children to the safe room and lock yourself in.”

  He stepped into his tennis shoes without bothering with socks.

  Thorne Scratch was pulling on boots as he went out his door. The kids were spilling into the hallway, all in nightgowns, whimpering in distress. There was another roar. Through the hallway window, he saw a crest of flame rise up out of buildings down the street, temporarily lighting the night to day. The kids cried out and ran to him. He was suddenly trapped by a dozen arms clinging tightly to him.

  “It’s okay! It’s okay! Prince True Flame and the Wyverns are fighting the oni. We’ll be fine.”

  “Get to the safe room!” Thorne snapped from his bedroom. “Go!”

  He started them moving, shuffling forward like a giant amoeba of fear. It wasn’t until Thorne swept past them like a dark shadow that the kids let go of him enough to cling to each other in more manageable groups.

  Thorne Scratch unlocked the front door and then stood waiting for him to catch up to her.

  “Go to the safe room.” He pushed the kids toward the hallway.

  Thorne caught him by the front of his T-shirt and kissed him hard. “I hate leaving you here with nothing to protect you.” She whispered.

  “You’re the one running toward the fight.” He said. “I’ll be tucked behind several feet of stone.”

  Thorne Scratch gave him one last long stare as if it was going to be the last time she’d see him alive. “Lock this behind me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  And then she was gone.

  Locking the door was the hardest thing he ever had to do.

  He hurried back to the small windowless safe room. He did a head count—five kids looking scared to hell—before shutting the heavy door and sliding the bars into place. Even through the thick walls, he could hear the muffled gunfire. And then there was a loud explosion that he could feel the earth underneath him shift. An explosion of that force would kill a sekasha regardless of their protective shield—and Thorne Scratch didn’t have a domana protecting her.